


kiss me slowly

by xxrisque



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, First Kiss, First Meetings, Fluff, Long Distance Relationship, M/M, for combeferre/grantaire week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-14
Updated: 2013-08-14
Packaged: 2017-12-23 10:22:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/925239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxrisque/pseuds/xxrisque
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>vaguely inspired by <a href="http://imagineyourotp.tumblr.com/post/57628387921/imagine-your-otp-is-in-a-long-distance">this</a> imagineyourotp prompt:<br/><i>Imagine your OTP is in a long distance relationship and are meeting each other for the first time. Person A and Person B run to each other and hug each other tightly, as Person A’s friend videos the meeting. Person A and B cry tears of happiness together with Person A’s friend still capturing the event on video as they walk out of the airport hand in hand.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	kiss me slowly

“You’re shaking.” Courfeyrac comments with a bemused smile as he looks up at Combeferre with a fond expression. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this nervous before.”

Combeferre frowns at him, then immediately turns back to scrutinize the board of arrivals mounted on the wall.

“Tell me you’d be calm in my situation.” He bites out, looking away to fixate on the floor.

“Well, no, but I’m not sure why you’re _so_ nervous. You were fine at graduation, and at every results day we’ve ever had –even Year Thirteen when you were so sure you’d failed Maths and you went and got an A* just to show us all up.”

“This is different. That was all academia, this is –this is huge.” Combeferre exhales shakily and tugs at the sleeves of his sweater, looking up at the clock. Almost one.

 Fifteen minutes to go.

“No, no, I get that, but you’re usually Mr. Cool about... Well, about everything.” Courfeyrac gestures vaguely with his hands, before reaching up to run his fingers through his curls. “Like when Enjolras gets too passionate, or I get too crazy, you balance us out. I’m just not used to you not being totally collected.”

“Well, call me when you’re meeting your boyfriend of nearly two years for the first time in less than an hour.” Combeferre frowns. “I’m sure you’d be as anxious as I am.”

“It’s not like you’ve never spoken to him before though, is it? It’s not like you can make a bad first impression.”

“Talking to him on _Skype_ doesn’t count.” Combeferre huffs. “It’s not the same. You can only blow so many kisses at a webcam before it starts to get a little stale, and oh God what if he gets here and decides he doesn’t like me?”

“You’re joking, right?”

“Things are different in person, what if he realizes I’m just a loser with a medical degree and a weird accent who likes sci-fi and trashy television shows and-”

“-and that’s what he wants.” Courfeyrac cuts in, squeezing Combeferre’s bicep. “Don’t you think he already knows that you like sci-fi, because Christ knows when the new _Star Wars_ films were announced you would not _shut up_ , or at least not to me.”

“Well, yes, but-”

“And I think everyone knows about your burgeoning love for Honey Boo Boo.”

“I don’t think her show airs in France but-”

“And you’re not a loser.” Courfeyrac smiles reassuringly, elbowing him playfully in the side. “Also, your accent is the same as mine. And they’re sexy as hell.”

“They’re Irish.”

“Exactly!”

Ten minutes to go.

“I should go to the platform.” Combeferre paces up and down restlessly. Courfeyrac watches him with raised eyebrows. “What if his train gets here early?”

“It won’t; it’s coming from France, after all.”

“Their public transport isn’t that bad.” Combeferre grumbles, stopping his pacing to tug his glasses from his face and wipe them furiously on his sweater. “That’s it, I’m going to the platform.”

“Alright, fine.” Courfeyrac shrugs. “Are you sure you want me to be here? Wouldn’t you rather your romantic reunion be just you two?”

“No, because if you leave now I think I’ll faint.” Combeferre replies bluntly, stopping at the sign labelling platform nine.

“Fair enough.” Courfeyrac laughs a little, but slides his arm through Combeferre’s and pulls him close. “But please, calm down. Everything will be fine. He loves you, that won’t just change when he sees you. Seriously.”

“But what if-”

Courfeyrac pushes himself up onto the balls of his feet and covers Combeferre’s mouth with his hand.

“But nothing. I’ve heard him talk about you, ‘Ferre, and he loves you as much as you love him. You have nothing to worry about.”

“When did you talk to him?” Combeferre asks quizzically, prising Courfeyrac’s hand away from his mouth.

“Graduation. You’d called him and were halfway through a conversation with him when Jehan grabbed you and you gave me your phone. We talked. He seems nice.”

“Well, I’m glad you approve.”

Five minutes to go.

“Should we have brought a sign? So it’s easy for him to find us?”

“And what would it say?” Combeferre rolls his eyes affectionately and leans against the signpost. “Besides, we know what each other looks like.”

“I don’t know, it was just a suggestion.” Courfeyrac shrugs, watching him carefully. Combeferre starts after a brief moment, digging in his the pocket of his jeans for his phone.

“What is it?” Courfeyrac continues, cocking his head at him.

“Just Joly. He wanted to tell me he’s happy for me and that I should bring him to the Musain later.”

“You should. We love a new face.” Courfeyrac grins teasingly.

“I’ll consider it. But I imagine Enjolras will probably threaten him.”

“Enjolras, really? He’ll probably just get protective of you, even though he’s smaller than you and you can more than look after yourself.”

“That’s exactly what I mean. They have rather opposing outlooks.”

“Oh, this _will_ be interesting.” Courfeyrac laughs loudly, patting Combeferre’s arm. “I don’t envy you trying to separate them.”

“Thanks for your support, Courf.”

A train appears in the distance.

Two minutes to go.

“Oh god, is that it?” Combeferre squints at the oncoming train like it will make it move faster. “Oh god, it is, Christ, Courf-”

“Calm down.” Courfeyrac replies, squeezing his arm. “It’ll be fine. Better than fine. Awesome, in fact.”

He pulls his phone from his pocket and flicks his camera on.

The train slows to a stop at the platform.

One minute to go.

“Can you see him?” Courfeyrac asks as the doors open. He starts recording on his phone as he watches Combeferre scan the crowd.

“No, not yet.” He turns to Courfeyrac, looking a little panicked. “Oh, Christ, what if he didn’t get on the train? What if-”

“You think I’d stand you up? Who do you think I am, ‘Ferre.” A voice rises from in front of him and Combeferre turns to look at the other man.

Combeferre stares at him reverently, like he can’t believe he’s really there, and the other man smiles and turns to Courfeyrac.

“Name’s Grantaire.” He holds out his hand, and Courfeyrac shakes it with a small smile.

“Courf. We spoke on the phone.”

“Ah, yeah.” Grantaire laughs, running a hand through his wild, black curls and looking briefly at Combeferre. “I remember. Is he alright?”

“Yeah, he was just a bit nervous. He’ll be fine, give him a minute.” Courfeyrac laughs, looking at his best friend. Combeferre is just watching Grantaire, not looking away once, with a light flush on his cheeks.

Grantaire turns to Combeferre, looking him up and down appreciatively. Combeferre does the same, and is about to open his mouth to say hello when Grantaire slides an arm around his waist, cups his cheek and kisses him. Combeferre seems surprised for all of ten seconds, before he kisses him back just as hard, sliding his fingers into Grantaire’s curls.

He pulls away after a few minutes and rests their foreheads together. He exhales, breathless and flustered, and grins.

“Hi.” He says quietly, and Grantaire’s lips break into a wide smile.

“Hi.”

“I’ve wanted to do that for two years.”

“Then why are we still talking?”

In response, Combeferre just kisses him again, his arms moving around Grantaire’s neck and pulling him closer. Grantaire makes a happy noise in the back of his throat and tightens his grip on Combeferre’s waist. When they pull apart, their eyes are damp with joyful tears.

“Are you okay?” Combeferre asks, looking Grantaire in the eyes with a small smile on his face. The smaller man laughs wetly.

“I’m great, I just –I just can’t believe you’re here.” He admits with a wry smile, looking at his feet.

“Neither can I.” Combeferre’s smile widens, and he moves his hands to cup Grantaire’s face. “I love you.”

“Wow, that feels different up close. Good different.” Grantaire exhales with a grin. “I love you too.”

Combeferre kisses him again.

Courfeyrac smiles at them both from behind his phone.

Combeferre slides his hand into Grantaire’s and squeezes, and the other man pulls away from their kiss to look at him and smile.

“You said your friends wanted to meet me?”

“Something like that.” Combeferre shrugs, and Grantaire grabs his bag and leads Combeferre towards the exit signs, swinging their hands all the while. Courfeyrac follows after them, still recording the two of them.

“You know, you’re taller than I thought you’d be.” Grantaire muses as they leave the station and move towards the underground station.

“Yeah? Well, you never told me you were so tiny.” Combeferre sniggers, squeezing Grantaire’s hand again.

“Five foot nine is not _tiny_. You’re just freakishly tall.” Grantaire retorts playfully, squeezing his hand back. “I still love you, though.”

“I love you too.” Combeferre’s smile is small, but it lights up his face and Grantaire is unspeakably glad to be responsible for it.

“Jesus Christ, you two are so sweet I might be sick!” Courfeyrac yells from where he trails behind them, his face half hidden by his phone. “But I am _so_ telling this story at your wedding! And I have video proof!”

“Shut up, Courf!”

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi to me on [tumblr](http://cursed-ornot.tumblr.com)!


End file.
